Seek and ye shall find a colony of rainbow bluets

Tiny and exquisite. Some of the most stunning things in nature you have to stop and look for, even when they’re already in plain sight. Damselflies, for example, which are among the most graceful, delicate insects of a Canadian summer, flitting by on gossamer wings. Like bigger, bolder dragonflies, they usually hang out near water, where males look for mates and females lay their eggs.

My husband and I went on a search for damsels and dragons last Sunday, eager to refamiliarize ourselves with common ones before upcoming counts, and because it’s such an enjoyable way to spend a sunny June afternoon.

We started off near the village of Zephyr, northwest of Uxbridge, along a wooded track we know that runs through perfect boggy, sedgy terrain. Dennis took off after some fast-flying skimmers and darners -- big dragonflies that I knew I wouldn’t have a hope of catching up with. Instead I took my time wandering along the narrow lane, staring down at the vegetation edging a small, slow-moving stream. And almost at once I was seeing bluets, those inch-long, turquoise damselflies that move slowly among the grasses, feeding on small insects or perching in the sun.

Marsh bluet? Hagan’s? Azure, stream or skimming bluet? I couldn’t be bothered trying right away to identify them, by studying, for starters, the blue and black patches on their slim, segmented abdomens. I just enjoyed gazing at them, admiring these tiny jewel-like fliers, and relishing, like them, being out in the sun after our long icy winter.

I did notice that some bluets were grey-brown all over. Tenerals -- newly emerged damselflies that hadn’t yet had their wings and exoskeleton harden, or developed their colours. Then I spotted one with an all-dark tail except for a single patch of turquoise on the very end. I looked closer and saw that it had a green thorax -- and orange eyes. Not your everyday bluet. Backing up, I fumbled with my binoculars, wanting to study it in more detail.

At which point I saw the slim yellow shoulder stripe, yellow legs, bulbous orange eyes and, when it moved, the lime-green undersides -- a veritable rainbow of colours on one miniscule insect. Pumped with excitement, I made my way down the lane toward Dennis, who was carrying the field guide. By the time I caught up with him I’d seen four or five more of these blue-tipped tiny bluets.

When I showed one to him, he knew exactly what the species was: rainbow bluet. He remembered finding one years ago along that very stream — the only one he’d ever seen, though he’d checked many times since. “Locally distributed south of the Canadian shield,” said the guide. We were mystified about where they had been, other summers -- was it a timing thing? -- and delighted to discover a whole colony, just by looking.